


Gene says it first

by basaltgrrl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Overthinking, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-08
Updated: 2010-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basaltgrrl/pseuds/basaltgrrl





	Gene says it first

  
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, rare and sunny.  The sun slanted through the bedroom window over the two of them in a post-coital tangle, sweat drying on skin, a leg thrown over hip, soft huffs of breath in Gene’s bedroom.

Sam wondered if Gene had fallen asleep – he hadn’t moved for minutes.  Closed his own eyes and considered dosing off; the particular combination of intense comfort and awkward sprawl seemed conducive to naps.   And he lay marveling that this was still something he got to do – the fucking, the being fucked – still didn’t quite dare to expect it.  Even when there were routines.  And signals.  Gene’s quirk of eyebrow over his last pint of the night – the fractional nod toward the door of the Arms.  Or Sam playing with his pen, rubbing it back and forth as he discussed a case.   The thought made his skin heat a little.

He wondered how many more Sunday afternoons there would be.  This couldn’t go on forever.  He couldn’t imagine Gene allowing it to go on, even though Gene had been the instigator, wet tongue on the back of Sam’s neck as Sam went to refill his scotch – and that wasn’t the point, really.  They couldn’t let anyone know, ever.  He felt the chronic tension knotting his neck.  Eyes on the back of his head.  ‘Course, it wasn’t so different from the nature of work; the awareness, the watching and analyzing.  But there lay the rub – they worked with people who did exactly such work.  Dangerous.  He was especially surprised Annie hadn’t said anything yet; she seemed to have a gentle finger on the pulse of CID.  It was a blessing that she tended to head home from the Arms before Sam and Gene did, or she’d have noticed something.

It was just too good to last.  This thing they had.  The way Gene had expected, from the very first, Sam to sleep in his bed with him.  The slow kisses while the coffee brewed.  The pleasant anticipation over a game of darts at the Arms, knowing that within an hour Gene’s bulk would be pinning Sam against his bedroom door.  Sam hadn’t spent a night in his flat for two weeks – would that in itself make someone suspicious?

“Tyler.”  Sam turned his head, Gene half rolled toward him suddenly.  Gene’s green eyes were half-lidded, his expression serious but unfathomable.  “I love you.”  Gene said it quickly, pursed his lips, seemed about to continue but then pulled his hands against his body and seemed disposed to wait.

“You – what?”

“Love you.”

“Uh…”  Sam felt his body  go hot, then cold.

“It might be appropriate to reciprocate, Gladys.  If you can bring yourself to open up that much.”

“Do – do you mean it?”

With a growl Gene grabbed the back of Sam’s head, pulled him into a kiss hard enough to bruise, twisting to get even closer.  Chest against chest, struggling for dominance.  Sam dived into it, giving, tongue and lips and teeth, and slowly the fierceness eased into something else, and Gene’s thumb shifted to stroke the shape of Sam’s ear.

“I –“ gasped Sam.

“You,” growled Gene.  “You make me want to crush you.  And protect you.  Fuck you into next Tuesday.  Make you a proper breakfast, you skinny git.  Iron your shirts.  I may not know much, Sam, but I try to be honest with myself, and I fucking love you.”

“But what—“ and this time Gene’s growl was louder, his teeth bared, and suddenly he had gone from lazy somnolence to catlike vitality as he lurched up over Sam, pinning him.  There were no more words from him.  He bit a line down Sam’s neck, fighting Sam’s hands with his own until he trapped them.  Pushing, cock pressing painfully against Sam’s balls.  Sam thrashed, couldn’t free himself.  “No,” purred Gene against his ear.  “Since you don’t seem willing to take my word for it-“

Sam gasped.  With short, sharp thrusts Gene’s cock found his hole, well-lubricated from their earlier efforts.  Sam rolled his hips up and Gene pressed home.  He felt a little raw, but open and lubed so the friction went from uncomfortable to fucking hot within a few minutes.  Gene thrust with a single-minded devotion, eyes open and locked on Sam’s face, breath coming in sharp bursts.

Sam stared back, his own cock throbbing and full, turned on as much by the intensity of Gene’s stare as by the penetration now pushing him toward the brink.

“Love you,” Gene gasped, as their bodies slapped together.  “Love you!  Love fucking your tight ass—oh god, Sam—“ and he was shuddering, pulsing, driving in with short, desperate thrusts.  His hand groped for Sam’s cock, grabbed around Sam’s hand and brought him off with two quick strokes. 

Sam strained up into Gene’s grip, managed to keep his eyes open and yelled, “I love you!” as he came in their combined grip.

Gene sank down on top of him.  Pulled out and rolled to the side, still with his hand on Sam’s cock.  Still with his eyes on Sam’s face.

“Where did that come from?” Sam wondered.

“S’truth.”

“But what made you say it?”

“I was lying there, thinking it.  Seemed right to let it out.”

“Fair enough.  Does it change anything?”

Gene’s expression clouded for a moment.  “By that you mean…?”

“Us.  Two men.  In love.”  Sam made a helpless gesture.  “Can’t tell the blokes at the office.  Can’t get married.”

A snort.  “Who said anything about getting married?”

“Believe it or not, eventually people will.”

“When pigs fly!”

Sam smiled.  “You don’t have to believe me.  And I do appreciate the sentiment.”

“Well,” Gene rolled over, grabbed a towel from the bedside table.  “It means I want you to move your stuff here.  Make dinner every night.  Have my drink waiting when I get home.  Unless  I get home first—turn about’s fair play.”

“I think we can manage that.  You ready for a tenant?”

“Long as I get to shag the living daylights out of ‘im every night, yes.”

Gene leaned in for a kiss, surprisingly gentle.  He ran his hand lightly over Sam’s hair, palmed the back of his head, then swung his legs out of bed.  “Oh, and wash the sheets,” he grinned.  “They’re filthy.”


End file.
